A Feint and a Faint
by GrrraceUnderfire
Summary: Good news, Newkirk. You passed the audition. Now go ahead and pad your part. A missing scene from Episode 1, The Informer. Received 2020 PBA Bronze Award for story based on an episode.


This is a missing scene based on the pilot episode, **The Informer**. I used this same scene in a similar form but a different context in my story "Hunger," which appears on another platform. I posted this originally with Carter as a character, and then remembered he hasn't arrived yet, so I made some change. Also, in this story (and most of my stories) Newkirk stutters like he does in the German-dubbed version of the show.

**A FEINT AND A FAINT**

"All right, you fellows know the routine. Olsen needs time to get out of camp. That means we have to create a distraction during rollcall," Hogan told the men of Barracks 2. It was early evening, the sky was dark, and the final rollcall of the day was less than an hour off. "What haven't we tried?"

"What about a fight? It's been a while since we used that one," Minsk said.

"I like the classics, Minsk, but not this time. Someone will land in the cooler for that, and I can't spare a man right now," Hogan said. "What else?"

"We can grab Schultzie's helmet and pass it down the line," LeBeau said. "He'll waste time looking for it."

"That's good, that's good," Hogan said. "You handle that, LeBeau. But we need more. Something that will get the Krauts' complete attention."

"I could puke," Garlotti said. "I've done it before."

The murmurs of rejection were instantaneous and violent.

"The people have spoken, Garlotti," Hogan said apologetically. "I don't think we can handle that again. Remember the chain reaction you triggered? I lost five men for an entire evening. Seven if you count the clean-up crew."

"I'm sick just thinking about it," LeBeau said as a dozen heads nodded agreement.

Hogan looked at Newkirk, whose mouth was moving. "Newkirk? Newkirk? Are you going to throw up? See, Garlotti, this is what I was talking about. Somebody get him a paper bag. Wait, we don't have those, do we?"

"Newkirk's fine, Sir," Kinch said. "Give him a minute." He was sitting beside the Englishman at the table, and squeezed his forearm.

Newkirk wasn't sick; he was forming his words and he was worried. He felt at ease in closed door meetings with Colonel Hogan and his immediate team. But out here in the main room, where the entire barracks was in on the discussion, he could sense everyone's eyes on him. He was feeling intense pressure not to stammer and give lads he barely knew a reason to ridicule him.

He had an idea, but getting it out was difficult. He was stuck on the sound "W" and couldn't seem to break past it. "What if..." wasn't going to happen, he realized. So he stopped, pressed his face into his hand, and regrouped. Bleeding stupid stammer, always getting in his way and making him look more hesitant than he ever felt.

"I could p-p-p-pass out, Sir," Newkirk finally said. "Schultz would stop for that, and it would create chaos in the ranks."

"P-P-P-P-Peter has spoken," Addison teased as Harper snickered.

Hogan shut them down with a single harsh look as Newkirk crossed his arms, rolled his eyes and silently wished his affliction on Addison. Maybe he'd stop if he knew what it was like to engage in hand-to-hand combat with an invisible enemy every bloody minute of the day.

Hogan bobbed his head, thinking about it. "How good's your faint, Newkirk?"

Newkirk stood, paced the room, and spoke as he went.

"It's been a w-while since I've tried it, Sir. Honestly, I'm ffffeeling a bit under the w-weather as it is. Blimey, it's hot in here, innit?" He tugged at his turtleneck, then stopped a few inches from Colonel Hogan.

"Mmmaybe it's poor timing, Sir," Newkirk said. "Cor, my head hurts."

Addison was scoffing when Newkirk suddenly lurched forward. Hogan and Kinch jumped in to catch him.

He was dead-weight in Hogan's arms for a long moment. Then, shivering, he let Hogan and Kinch ease him into a seat. He looked clammy and nauseated.

"I don't think having you faint tonight is such a good idea, Newkirk," Hogan said with concern etched on his face as he knelt in front of the corporal. He touched his shoulder. "Are you going to be OK? You look hot. LeBeau, get him some water."

Newkirk took the drink in his shaky hands, sipped it, and returned the glass to Hogan, who frowned as he placed it on the table. Then the Englishman brightened like the morning sun.

"Mmmme, Sir? I'm fffine! I thought that w-went smashingly," Newkirk grinned.

The room erupted with laughter as Newkirk stood, turned and took a bow, then peeked over his shoulder at the Colonel. Hogan, smiling broadly, dropped an arm around his shoulder, laughing helplessly.

Even Harper and Addison were chuckling. "Nice one, Newkirk," Addison said in an admiring tone.

"Gentlemen," Hogan said, "I think we found our diversion." He pulled Newkirk to his side and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "You got the part, you sneak. Pad it all you want."

Newkirk beamed as Hogan showed him off and joked with the team. He knew he'd won more than the part. He'd won the Colonel's confidence.


End file.
